Such A Thing
by Ari'el.Holland
Summary: None will hold him down. For this time, he had done it...


This short tale is dedicated to my beautiful Deidara...May you rest in peace, my love.

Warning: Dangerously iced with angst, darkness and sprinkled with nuts, lots of it. You may hate me after this.

Disclaimer: Naruto and all those characters which do no good for my fluttering, fragile heart belongs to the one and only Kishimoto-sama, the real genius here.

* * *

From the mighty hurl of great force, the clay figurine smashed into bits. The shards scattering on the already dusty, cement floor. Growling acrimoniously, Deidara punched his fist into the paint streaked walls, a handsome face creased with profound frustration, easily flooding his entire being.

For months, he had been working on the idea of having an intricate figurine with life-like curvature. Thus day after day, night after night, he had worked at it, but opus after opus, change after change, none could meet his expected ideal.

And by that time, his patience had pitched to an all time low.

With his head throbbing with fierce vexation, the blue-eyed male storming to the door of his shabby apartment and stumbled into the dimly lit alley that led to a bar, he needed to drink this off. Now.

There was definitely a long list of persons to condemn for his sudden fall of ability. _His ability, dammit._ But he noting that it wasn't anybody but him. It had to be something else, something that was of paramount significance.

Something so...so...

Trudging on, he stopped dead in his tracks by a silhouette just about three meters away. And as the form of the person drew closer to his line of vision, adrenaline surged through his pulsing veins, his heartbeat quickened as an idea forged instantly in his stress clouded mind. Upon realizing the enormity of what he was about to do, he mind went blank...

...This is it.

* * *

"Inspector Uchiha," The officer barker, "the body's over here!"

Itachi turned, setting his stormy gaze to where the rookie had called out, he fixed his dark eyes on the table in the little apartment that he knew a little too well. His breath hitched in his throat.

The lifeless body of a rosy-haired girl, her luscious, pink hair stood out against her now bloodless flesh. Her skin was smeared with a perplexing design of swirls, and patterns of the most vibrant colors.

A dreadfully morbid creation, one that transcended all beauty.

Exhaling sharply, he recovered his composure, inquiring, "Where's the man now?"

The novice officer, known as Sarutobi Konohamaru, jerked his chin to the corner of the shadowy room and Itachi made out the crouched form of his friend. The 25-year-old Uchiha flicked his torchlight, aiming it at the unruffled man as he trekked through the collection of dust, crumbs of food, chunks of ceramic to him.

"I've finally completed it, un.." Deidara announced calmly, his face beaming with a disturbing look of satisfaction as he looked up.

"Are you aware that the sentence for murder is death?" Itachi asked quietly, eyes never leaving the his.

A shameless glint in his cerulean depths as he did said nothing but rose to his feet, stretching his hand out to Itachi. Konohamaru's eyes widened, this was possibly the most yielding a criminal had ever been. Closing his eyes, the raven-haired Inspector sighed deeply and clicked the cold handcuffs on the wrist of his friend.

"Why?" Itachi questioned, even he was unable to control his curiosity about Deidara's incomprehensible obsession in this field of work, and passion.

Licking his lips, Deidara replied with deliberate slowness, "All my life, I have expressed all that I am through arts. The world loves my wordless works. I am lauded as 'The Prodigal of Modern Arts', un. It is this reputation that keeps me striving. I don't want to fade from the limelight. No, I want this masterpiece to surpass all that humans can ever imagine, to a supreme standard no one can ever match!"

Smirking dangerously, he declared, a finality to his suddenly cracking voice,

"For art I live, for art I die, un..."

* * *

I'm thoroughly aware that I'm a psychopath.

...So now, let it rain, beautiful people, let it rain.


End file.
